


Dessert

by scratchedagain



Category: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Genre: bad joke, sellswords era, very light reference to cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratchedagain/pseuds/scratchedagain
Summary: Jarlaxle gets to try a new dessert. Artemis ends up regretting it.





	Dessert

Artemis and Jarlaxle sat quietly in one of the nicer restaurants in the city they had wandered into that morning. The dishes from their meal had been cleared away and both were enjoying a moment just to think. Artemis suspected that wouldn’t last long – his companion had been eyeing nearly every person they saw upon entering the city. By the end of the day he knew they’d have a job, probably something ridiculous, and Jarlaxle would almost certainly have another fling. He suspected it would be with their waiter, with whom the drow had been flirting the entire meal.

The young man in question returned to them after a few minutes of peace, two small dishes in hand filled to the brim with a striped dessert. He set them on the table before the mercenaries with a nod to the assassin and a coy smile for Jarlaxle.

“Desert for the gentlemen – tiramisu, our best. Would you like anything to go with it?” Artemis shook his head. Jarlaxle leaned over his dish curiously, inspecting it.

“What is it made of?” He asked, picking up the dish to take a sniff. The waiter chuckled at the sight, hand over his mouth.

“Tiramisu is a coffee flavored dessert. It’s made of ladyfingers dipped in coffee, layered with a whipped mixture of eggs, sugar and mascarpone cheese and flavored with cocoa. It’s quite good!” He was still smiling as he finished his explanation. Jarlaxle grinned at him, unashamed of his ignorance.

“My thanks, good man. I'm sure it will be _delicious_.” The drow wasn’t even looking at the dessert as he spoke and Artemis had to repress a sigh, wondering if he might ever have just one meal without the drow attempting to pick up half the restaurant. He took a sip of his ale rather than express his displeasure, knowing it wouldn’t slow the lecherous drow in the slightest.

“Enjoy,” purred the young man, running a hand along Jarlaxle’s shoulder as he walked away. Jarlaxle looked him up and down as he went.

“I plan to.” The waiter laughed, shooting the drow a wink over his shoulder. Artemis rolled his eyes.

“Very subtle,” he muttered, finally digging into his tiramisu. Jarlaxle chuckled as he returned to inspecting his, head almost on the table as he looked at the layers through the glass.

“Subtlety is not always necessary, my friend.” Artemis snorted.

“So I've noticed. What are you doing?”

“What are ‘ladyfingers’?” Artemis blinked at the question. He squinted at the drow, who was now looking up at him for the answer, head still cocked to the side.

“A kind of cookie.” The drow ‘hmm-ed’ in response. Artemis paused, waiting as drow simply began picking apart his dessert with his fork, tasting each layer separately and pondering. The assassin shook his head and continued eating his own food. He made it about halfway through the tiramisu before Jarlaxle finally decided to explain.

“We also have a snack called ‘Lady Fingers’ in Menzoberranzan. It is rather different.” He paused a moment. “Also rare.”

“…Oh?” Artemis asked. A small voice in the back of his mind piped up, saying he probably didn’t want to know. The drow smiled - half rueful, half wicked - and wagged his fingers at his friend.

“The name is rather more literal.” Artemis blinked again, then sighed, making a mental note to listen to that inner voice more often. He leaned back in his chair and pointed his fork at his companion.

“Is there anything your people do not go out of their way to make horrible?” Jarlaxle only grinned at him. Artemis suddenly noticed just how very white and straight the drow’s teeth were. He contemplated what it would take to keep them so clean and the wide smile he so heavily associated with the mercenary took on a sinister tone it had never had before. He groaned in frustration and let his head fall into his hand. The mercenary leaned forward over the table, greedy eyes on Artemis’s dessert.

“Are you going to finish that?” The assassin quietly pushed the dish across the table without raising his head. Jarlaxle’s laughter was gleeful as he took the remainder and scooped it into his own. He popped a large bite into his mouth and chewed happily.

“This is good!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry. _Mostly_ not sorry.
> 
> I really have a thing for writing stories where people are eating on-screen, don't I? *shrug*


End file.
